


Dedicated To The Boy On The Train

by SuzyQSky



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Nonlinear Narrative, Post-Canon, Reader-Insert, The author is not good at tagging but she's trying her best, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzyQSky/pseuds/SuzyQSky
Summary: Before the fall of the homunculi and Father, neither of the Elric brothers had the time or interest to indulge in works of fiction. If it wasn't research, or otherwise informational, it had no place on their bookshelves. Years after the Promised Day had passed, much had changed, but not that fact. Alphonse, after six months in Xing, arrived in Resembool. In his possession was a novel by an up-and-coming author.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Dedicated To The Boy On The Train

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone finding this after reading Train Station Conversations: Hello again, it's lovely to see you. I'm working on the next chapter, I promise
> 
> To everyone else: I don't believe we've met before, it's nice to meet you. If you like this, maybe check out my other FMA fic. It's called Train Station Conversations and Low Odds, is much longer than this, and is currently my most popular fic. I hope to see you there.
> 
> This came from the same train of thought that TSC did, but in no way is it connected story-wise. I don't expect this to be more than three chapters at the time of completion, but that's not a guarantee. All of that said, I hope you enjoy.

_ They say that it’s not the destination, but the journey that truly matters in the end. However, she’d been on enough trips in and out of the colorful capital city of Xing to know that it wasn’t always the case. Sometimes it wasn’t the destination or the journey that mattered most, but the people that show up out of nowhere and crash into your life, sometimes in a literal sense. _

_ He had the charm of a shy country-boy with the Eastern twang in his voice to match and the grace of a newborn deer on ice skates. She never would’ve guessed he was the infamous criminal currently being chased across the continent by more than one military superpower. _

* * *

_ “The blonde is showing again,” she pointed out, one hand pushing aside dyed black locks to get a peek at his true chestnut color. “It’s a shame you have to dye it, your natural color suits you better.” _

_ He gently gripped her wrist and brought her hand down to the bench they shared outside the busy train station. “I can’t risk standing out any more than I already do. You know that.” _

_ She sighed, pulling her hand from his grip and resting it in her lap. “I know, but it’s not fair that you can’t live a normal life.” She kept her voice down just low enough to be inconspicuous. “I don’t see how anyone could believe that you’re capable of committing any crime, let alone what they’re accusing you of.” _

_ “I could say the same about you,” he said, a coy smile spreading across his face. _

_ “That’s where you’re wrong about me.” _

* * *

_ She winced as the hot needle pulled another stitch through her wound. “Sorry,” he apologized as he pulled it tight. She waved off his concern, focusing instead on breathing and not bleeding out all over the documents they’d risked their lives to get. “You need to be more careful out there.” _

“Al, you haven’t moved all day and I know for a fact that there’s no research document in the world that could be so interesting.”

_ “I know, I know.” She stretched her fingers to make sure she still had all her nerves intact. “But you’ll always be here to patch me up when I get hurt, so it’s fine.” He glared at her while cleaning the blood off his sutures, thirteen stitches already done.  _

_ “You say you understand, and yet here you are, getting more stitches that could have been easily avoided if you didn’t get fancy with your fighting.” He started wrapping her arm in thick gauze to keep the infection out, pulling it unnecessarily tight. _

“Al, seriously, I’m concerned.”

_ “I take back everything I said about you being nice. You’re a sadist.” She rubbed her sore arm and glared at him. He wore a smug smile that meant he believed he’d won, if her years of outrunning terrorists disguised as noblemen alongside him had taught her anything. “Thanks, though.” _

_ His smug expression lifted, leaving only his signature kind smile in its wake. “No problem. I set your broken bones and you get me the information I need to clear my name. That was our deal, right?” _

“Y’know what? I don’t care. Read the day away. I’m sure whatever it is must be more important than spending time with your big brother who you haven’t seen in six months.”

* * *

_ His first crime stared him straight in the face and wore a smug expression while doing it. He felt his face flush with anger, but a calming touch on his shoulder was all he needed to reign it back in. “Why would you do it?” he asked in the most venomous tone he knew he could use. “You killed our mother and then faked your own death and framed me for it. What could you possibly have to gain from that?!” _

_ His brother whom he’d thought dead, whom he’d grieved for, only laughed. “You really think I’m stupid enough to fall for that bullshit? I’m not the villain here, so don’t expect some tear-jerking monologue about my reasons. She got what she had coming, after everything she put me through.” _

_ He fought back tears as old wounds were torn open from his brother’s cold words. “Calm down, he’s just trying to provoke you,” she whispered into his ear. He could hear her outrage, though. He knew her far too well for her to be able to hide something so obvious. _

_ “You act like you’re the victim here, but you’re not. After everything you’ve done, I have no reason to mourn anymore.” He lifted the gun he’d pilfered from a guard two weeks ago and pulled the hammer back. _

_ “What, after all this time, you’re just going to kill me?” He spread his arms wide. “Go right ahead. Prove to them all what I’ve known all this time. Prove that you’re a monster that would betray your own brother.” He turned his attention to his brother’s companion. “You may want to close your eyes for this, sweet cheeks. Your boyfriend’s about to become a killer.” _

_ She noticed his hand trembling ever-so-slightly on the trigger. She shook her head. “No, he’s not.” She took the gun from him and aimed it between the eyes of the monster they’d been tracking for years. “I am.” _

Alphonse was ripped from the world of  _ Lost in the Details _ as the book was pulled out of his grasp. “Hey, I was reading that!”

His heartless brother dangled the book between his forefinger and thumb as he scanned the summary printed on the back cover. “I know. You’ve been reading this all day and I still can’t figure out why. It’s  _ fiction. _ You never read fiction.”

“A friend gave it to me,” he said, snatching the novel back from his brother. 

“What friend? You don’t have any friends that I know of that would recommend mystery romance novels, unless the bastard has some hidden fetish I don’t know about.”

“You don’t know her, actually.” He flipped through the book in a vain attempt to find the page he’d left off on. It was somewhere in chapter twenty, wasn’t it?

“‘Her’?” Ed said with more than a hint of interest in his voice. “What girl managed to pull you out of your research long enough to get you interested in a fiction novel?”

“Someone I met in Xing,” he answered in the vaguest way possible. He scanned through the pages, looking for the familiar passage he’d been reading just moments ago. His eyes stopped and zeroed in on the place he’d been before he was so rudely interrupted. He picked up a bookmark with a blue tassel and slipped it between the pages, knowing she wouldn’t like it if he dog-eared the pages of her book. Ed cleared his throat and looked pointedly at his younger brother. “What?”

“Explanation, please.” He crossed his arms and showed no signs of leaving Al alone to his story. “I want to know what girl can get you so into a book that you stay up until three in the goddamn morning reading.”

Al steeled his expression and put the book down on the coffee table. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll ever see her again. She probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“You don’t know that.” Ed’s voice was quiet, pitying. “It’s not always going to turn out like-”

“How do you know that? Because you and Winry are married, now everyone is going to find  _ the one _ and everything will be fine in the end?” Al interrupted with. He regretted the harsh words the second they escaped his mouth and he saw his brother’s pained expression. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. I know you’re just trying to help.”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Ed waved off his apology. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

“Thanks.”

“You got a package in the mail today,” Ed said in a blatant attempt to change the topic. “I don’t know if you were expecting anything, and there’s no name or return address, but I couldn’t get your attention until now.” He stood from the couch next to his brother and retrieved a package wrapped in nondescript brown paper.

Al took the package, surprised by the weight of it. Rather than try to guess what was inside, he peeled at the adhesive holding it together. Ed sat in silence, watching as Al carefully unwrapped the rectangular package to reveal a book. In bold letters, the title  _ Falling From Grace _ adorned the front cover. At the bottom, in smaller print, was the name of the author. Ed didn’t recognize it, but Al clearly did. He traced the first few letters with his thumb and, as if he realized his brother was watching, opened it before getting through the entire first name. An envelope slipped out of the first few pages and fluttered to the floor. In the handwriting of someone who took notes often, one word was scratched onto the envelope in black ink.  _ Alphonse.  _

He slid his index finger under the flap and peeled it open, only slightly ripping the envelope in the process, and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

_ Alphonse, _

_ As you may have gathered, I finished it! I couldn’t have done it without your help. The copy I’ve sent is from the first printing. I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t, it’ll fetch a high price once I’ve become a famous author. _

_ I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner. I tried to call, but it turns out they don’t have phone lines connecting Amestris and Xing. I probably should have realized that earlier. However! They deliver post across the desert, even if it takes quite a while. I don’t know when you are receiving this, but I have plans to come back to Amestris just after the new year and I’d love to see you again. I’ll be staying in Central City to sort out publication in case you are interested in meeting. _

_ Much love, _

_ (Y/n) _

_ P.S. _

_ I hope you don’t mind that I dedicated it to you. I made sure not to use your name, if that makes it any better. _

Ed, who had been reading over his brother’s shoulder, muttered, “Speak of the devil and you shall get mail from her.” Al pretended not to hear that comment as he refolded the note and tucked it back into the envelope. Ed picked up the hardcover book and opened it to the page just before the title page. “Probably doesn’t remember you, my ass.” Al plucked the book from his brother’s hands and quickly read the short passage in the middle of the page, just above the author’s signature.

_ Dedicated to the boy on the train, who served as inspiration when nothing else would. I hope to see you again soon. _

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations, you've made it to the end. If you liked it, feel free to leave kudos. If you didn't, I'm accepting constructive criticism at all times. If you're here to pester me about TSC, you can do that in the comments of TSC. There's no need to be shy about leaving comments, even if they're just "Hey, you haven't updated in seven years, are you planning on continuing????" I like knowing what people are thinking.


End file.
